06 April 2012

Good Friday

From The Liturgical Year: 

"Finally, after seeing him struck and spit upon, and after the cruel scourging and the frightful insult of the crown of thorns, we will follow our Jesus up Mount Calvary; we shall know where His sacred feet have trod by the Blood that marks the road. We shall have to make our way through the crowd, and, as we pass, we shall hear terrible imprecations uttered against our divine Master.

Having reached the place of execution, we shall behold this august Victim stripped of His garment, nailed to the cross, hoisted into the air, as if the better to expose Him to insult! We will draw near to the tree of life, that we may lose neither one drop of that Blood which flows for the cleansing of the world, nor one single word spoken, for its instruction, by our dying Jesus. 

We will compassionate His Mother, whose heart is pierced through with a sword of sorrow; we will stand close to her, when her Son, a few moments before His death, shall consign us to her fond care. After His three hours' agony, we will reverently watch His sacred Head bow down, and receive, with adoring love, His last breath." 

Popule meus, quid feci tibi, aut in quo contristavi te? Responde mihi. Quia eduxi te de terra Aegypti, parasti crucem Salvatori tuo. 

 --From the reproaches of Good Friday


Long-Skirts said...


I sat upon my back porch step
One dark Good Friday noon
And saw a robin red-breast rest
To sing a soft sad tune.

The melody it brought me tears
As damp cool winds blew by.
My soul it felt the stab of spears...
My sins that made Him die.

But robin of Good Friday noon
Your blood-red breast reminds...
That we must stop...confess our sins
Now death...she holds no binds.

And when on dark Good Friday noons
Red-breasted robin sings,
Confess your sins at Sacrament
And sprout red-robin wings.

Anonymous said...

When do confessions start?

thetimman said...